First rule of masturbation club

Gender:

Male

I had previously submitted a JackinWorld Biography, but the story was unfinished — just covering early years in detail with a smattering of info from college on. I would now like to relate further on my college years and beyond. My freshman year was my first time away from home for an extended period. As a daily masturbator facing a situation of living in a small room with another person in a very large dorm, I was wondering what was going to happen. Well, my roomie was a jerk. Not only was he not at all compatible with me, he was obsessive-compulsive about the floor being unsanitary, so the room constantly smelled of Lysol. Luckily, he got along with another fellow down the hall and I got along with that fellow's roomie, so we switched rooms after two weeks.

One week into the new room and late at night I heard a familiar sound emanating from my new roommate's bed across the room. He was masturbating under the covers. I decided to take my chance and I, too, began to masturbate, making sure it was audible. Shortly after I started, my roommate whispered, "Whatcha doing?" I answered, "The same thing you are!" He turned on the lights and we proceeded to continue masturbating under our covers watching each other. Nothing was said about it the next day, but the following night we repeated. That next night I noticed that he didn't put on any pajamas when he went to bed. As I always had slept nude as a teen, I left my PJs in the drawer as well and slept naked. We kept the lights on and talked for a while, and I took the opportunity to fondle myself under the sheets as we talked. I then brought up masturbation, telling him it was fine by me if he did it out in the open and I hoped he wouldn't mind if I did, too. He agreed, and from that point on we had nightly sessions on top of the sheets looking at each other go at it from across the room. One night after a hall beer bash, our inhibitions dropped and I joined him in his bed masturbating. Five minutes into that session he reached over and started to fondle me. I reciprocated, and after that time we occasionally had mutual sessions in the same bed. We also experimented quite a few times with mutual oral stimulation. He was my roommate for the next two years and our escapades and experimentation continued. Over that two-year period I began to realize that I had no desire to be with or have sex with women, and I began to wonder if I was gay.

My senior year I transferred to another college and was lucky to get one of the few single rooms available in an all-seniors dormitory. My major was German, and I was thinking of going into teaching. This meant that I had to be a teaching assistant for freshmen taking German. I found I had spare time and started to tutor a couple of students as well in order to get a little extra "beer money." One of the students, a sophomore at the time, had taken a particular liking to me, and we soon became close friends. We usually had the tutoring sessions in my dorm room. One day late in the fall was an "Indian summer" day and I was expecting him over that evening for a tutoring session. My window faced the west and my room was at least 85 degrees when he arrived. He came in and took his usual spot, lying across my bed with me at my chair by my desk. This was in the early 80s when extremely short cut-off jeans were still the style for shorts. As we were studying, I noticed that his penis had flopped out of his shorts and was clearly visible. This caused me to get a very noticeable erection, and when I stood up at one point I saw him looking right at it. This in turn caused him to get erect. Taking a chance, I reached over and grabbed his erection. He sort of froze for a second, then lay back and undid his shorts and let me masturbate him. I undid my shorts, exposing myself, and he in turn started to masturbate me. This was all done with neither one of us saying a word. We both ejaculated in large volumes almost simultaneously, cleaned up, and put our pants back on, and then continued with the tutoring as if nothing had ever happened. Not a word was mentioned about this between the two of us for weeks afterward, until one night, after we had gone out for some beers, we ended up back at my room. He brought up our little session, mentioning he'd like to try it again sometimes. Within 10 minutes we were both stark naked, lying in my bed masturbating each other. After we finished I told him that whenever he felt like it he could come on over so we could enjoy the pleasures of masturbating together. This turned into a Sunday night tradition, and like with my former roommate, we experimented with oral sex as well. Considering we were at a very conservative Christian college, it's a wonder that this ever occurred — especially every Sunday!

That whole year and for the next year, I was still wrestling with myself on whether I was gay or not. My desire for women was nil; all my masturbation fantasies revolved around men and penises. After graduation I found myself back living with my parents, sorely missing my masturbation sessions with my friend and my former roommate at my old college. Solo masturbation was getting to be boring, and I found myself doing it less because the "thrill was gone." But I still had strong desires, so I decided to take my chances and visit a gay bar in a nearby town. I waited until my parents were gone for a weekend and drove down on a Saturday night. When I walked through the door of that bar, I was literally shaking like a leaf. Did this mean I really was gay? I was scared to death at the implications. I sat at the bar, and in my nervous state I began to pound down beers like there was no tomorrow.

This, of course, meant that soon I had to urinate. I staggered from my stool toward the restroom. I entered — it was quite dark — and approached the trough-style urinal. As I was standing there relieving myself, an older gentleman approached the urinal and stood next to me. He unzipped and my eyes wandered down toward his crotch. He noticed, smiled, and much to my surprise was erect within seconds and was masturbating. I too became erect and started to masturbate. Thoughts raced through my head — is this what being gay is all about? Masturbating at urinals in bars? What had become of me? I quickly ejaculated, smiled at the gentleman, and left him standing there, erection in hand.

An overwhelming feeling of guilt and depression came over me. After downing at least 4 more beers I ran from the bar out to my car in tears. There I sat and cried until I passed out. The next morning I awoke lying in the front seat alone in the parking lot. Hung over and still depressed, I drove home and slept off the hangover until noon.

When I awoke, I called information and got the phone number for my roommate from my freshman through junior years and called him. He wasn't home, but I left a message. That evening he called back, and we spent a good 3 hours on the phone talking about all the good times we had. I brought up our masturbation sessions, and we even ended up doing a little phone sex. What I really wanted to tell him was that I was gay and in love with him and wanted him near me all the time, for the rest of my life — but I couldn't bring myself to say it.

I ended up calling him almost every night for the next week, and each night at some point in the conversation I would say, "I took off all my clothes and I'm masturbating." He joined in the first few nights, but then he began to get a little suspicious of my intentions. Finally on Thursday evening he said, "Look, I really like talking to you, but this is getting ridiculous! What is going on with you?" I ended up in tears, blurting out that I wanted to masturbate him now and that I missed him and wanted him — finally saying that I was gay and that I was in love with him. He slammed down the phone and refused to take any more of my calls. I haven't heard from him to this day.

I continued to return to the gay bar almost every weekend, and each week it was the same old story. I would walk up to the urinal, wait for someone to stand next to me, and start masturbating. Usually, the other person would start as well and I'd ejaculate and walk away. A few times I got looks of disgust. Once I got yelled at. More often, however, the other person and I would retreat to a stall for mutual pleasures. None of my friends knew I was doing this, and certainly not my family! My depression got worse, and soon I was fired from my job for missing too much work. My parents were hounding me to go to grad school. Life in general was miserable. I then decided I had to get away from it all. Where else to go but San Francisco! — as far from all my friends and family as possible while still remaining on the continental U.S.

I enrolled in a grad school in the Bay Area and headed west. I rented a two-bedroom apartment and started the search for a roommate. I soon found another student to share the apartment with — he was from Japan and getting his advanced degree in teaching English as a Second Language. My masturbation sessions were again alone in my bedroom, and at this point I decided to deal with the boredom of "fisting" my erection every night and try different techniques. Backhanded with my left hand while fondling my scrotum with my right became a favorite. I purchased a vibrating dildo at a porn shop and started to experiment with anal stimulation as well.

One evening I thought my roommate was going to be out late, so I rented a gay porno, put it in the VCR, stripped naked, and lay on the couch in the living room. I continually masturbated throughout the entire tape, and when it was over I just lay there exhausted, my stomach coated with semen, naked on the couch. I fell asleep to the static coming from the TV as the tape finished. Later that night, in came my roommate with 6 Japanese friends (3 women included) in tow. They barged in to find me sound asleep, penis in hand, covered with semen. The tape had rewound and automatically started again — two men were in the 69 position on screen going at it like beasts. To top it all off, my dildo (with clear indications of having just been used) was sitting on the coffee table. Two weeks later I was looking for a new roommate.

This time, in the listing I posted on the bulletin board at school, I mentioned that I was gay. Despite this, I found myself with a straight roommate. When I interviewed him I asked if he was comfortable with nudity (he was) and if he minded me watching the occasional gay porn on the VCR in the living room (he didn't mind). I had discovered a nude beach nearby earlier that year and found that I was very comfortable down there (it was a mixed gay/straight crowd of very friendly people) and that I found myself not wanting to bother with clothes around the apartment. My new roommate moved in. He tended to hang out in his underwear and me naked when we knew no one else was coming around. He rented straight porns on a regular basis, and I rented my gay porns. And guess what? He loved to masturbate while watching porns and didn't care the least that I saw him doing it! He did make it clear, however, that he was definitely straight and hands-off material. Soon we would each masturbate in our separate chairs in front of the TV, be it either a gay or straight porn. One time and one time only, he consented to letting me masturbate him. He said he really liked it, loved my technique (a penile massage technique, actually, that I had picked up from a book on sensual massage), but it really didn't "turn his crank" as he put it.

He was my roommate for the rest of grad school. Two months after graduation, he got a job in New York and left. By then I had found a regular boyfriend and decided to take a local job and move in with him. I decided at that point to come out to friends, family, and coworkers as well. (This was met by cries of "It's about time!" and sarcastic things like "Gee, we never would have guessed!") My boyfriend was a bit on the straight-laced side and disapproved of my masturbating on almost a nightly basis, so I was stuck with shower sessions on the sly. Six months into that relationship my boyfriend found religion; I was banished to the couch and lectured on the evils of sodomy. I immediately started to look for another apartment, but before I found one I arrived home from work one day to find my bags packed and waiting at the door. A gay couple I had met at the beach let me crash on their couch while I looked for an apartment.

One week into that stay, the couple announced that they were having a "special party" with a group of men they met with on a monthly basis. It turned out it was a masturbation club, and they felt it fair that they warn me beforehand in case I wanted to make myself scarce for the evening. On the contrary, I replied, I would love to be there! This monthly "men's group" met at a different house every month and had simple rules: (1) Clothing must be shed within 5 minutes of arriving — nudity only, (2) no lips beneath the shoulders, (3) no anal contact except with sex toys, which could not be shared unless first disinfected, and (4) no exchange of bodily fluids.

I was slightly nervous about the event, but once the crowd started to arrive I was fine. Much to my surprise the group consisted of men ranging from 20 to about 70 years of age — and most of them were married with children. I'd say out of the 20 or so that showed up, only about 8 were gay. So, contrary to what I thought, masturbation wasn't for the young only and wasn't a mostly gay practice! We all spent around 3 hours sitting around naked, discussing masturbation techniques, trying them out on one another, and just engaging in general chit-chat. Boxes of tissue were disbursed around the room for clean-up, along with disinfecting wet tissues for cleaning the various dildos, vibrators, and penile-constricting devices brought by the participants. I had a great time and ejaculated about 4 times over the evening — 3 times with help from others. I masturbated 4 other men, and I demonstrated my penile massage technique on one married, older gentleman in front of the whole group.

I became a regular antendee at the masturbation parties and learned many new techniques. I even eventually met my current partner of 9 years at a meeting two years after joining.

After spending a month and a half on the couch at my friends' house I found a place to rent. I picked up two housemates (both gay, but not partners). We became regular hosts of the masturbation parties and all had a great time. Nudity around our house was common — in fact, we wouldn't bat an eye if visitors took off all their clothes when stopping by. All of our friends knew this and had no problem with it. (One thing about being gay is that you soon find yourself living in a "gay bubble" of mostly gays and lesbians and those very accepting of them.) We eventually fenced in our backyard for better privacy in the hot tub and to allow nude sunbathing — thus we sort of became a nudist retreat on warm weekends. My housemates and I decided that masturbation was best done in private, mainly due to the number of frequent visitors, but we kicked everyone out promptly at 5 in the evening on Sundays for at least one night of privacy. We would often rent videos and just sit around and watch them all evening, the last selection usually being pornographic, during which we would separately masturbate with the occasional mutual session and some oral play.

Four years later I had saved enough money to purchase the house. My partner had by then moved in with me and my two housemates had left. We decided on a "no renters" policy and to limit guests, invited or otherwise, to Thursdays through Sunday at 5:00 PM to allow ourselves more privacy and time alone together. Two years ago the masturbation group disbanded after many of the members decided they wanted to loosen up the rules and make it more of a sex club. We had stopped attending regularly one year after we got together anyway, except for hosting the group's annual 4th of July picnic and New Year's Day party (because of our large, private backyard with hot tub). We felt that masturbation and sex were better a private, intimate affair.

Nowadays my partner and I enjoy a healthy, fun sex life that includes many solo and mutual masturbation sessions. We especially enjoy giving each other penile massages — there are a few very good publications on sensual massage that can be purchased at most New Age-type bookstores. A good massage can last well over an hour before a most wonderful climax is achieved. Unfortunately, these techniques just won't work solo, as much as I have tried. We both hope to continue masturbating alone and together for years to come!

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